


To Be A Were

by slashsailing



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Aggression, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bonding, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Verse, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashsailing/pseuds/slashsailing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Werewolves aren't just something out of a fairy tale. Or an Omega 'verse story wherein alpha!Jim thinks he pretty much has his life sorted until alpha!Pike comes along and dares him to join Starfleet, then he meets Bones and mostly just focuses on trying to convince the grumpy omega to mate with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be A Were

**Author's Note:**

> While it is primarily a Jim/Bones story, Pike is an alpha and as such has slightly alpha-ish feelings towards Bones, both Jim and myself were highly unamused by this fact but who am I only the writer. I forwent the whole knotting thing because *shrug* I don't usually do this stuff and wasn't that sure about the whole process, plus there is no baby-making so I figured maybe it wasn't necessary. I dunno? Let me know what you think anyway.

_Once upon a time there lived a werewolf…_

…

By the time the human race progresses as far as the twenty-two fifties werewolves are no longer illustrated as the carnivorous shape-shifters that ought to lock themselves in the cellar on the night of the full moon. But with all that happened in the Eugenics Wars, with the rigorous experimentation and the veritable _culling_ of the species, they are a creature that exists very few and far between. And, because they are not _actually_ ruled by the tides of the moon nor are they necessarily _predatory_ in their wolf forms, they are a creature that mostly, if not intentionally, goes unnoticed by the masses.

And for the most part they like it that way.

It’s a biological thing at the heart of it. Weres breed with weres and the species continues. The evolution of the first werewolf, or wol _ves_ depending on who’s telling the story, is something of a fable, only surviving through word of mouth. Apparently there was something to do with magic, a curse maybe, an alien race’s idea of the perfect practical joke for the narrow minded, stringently fearful, humans. But they began and they continue. Only just, if their meagre two-thousand population toll is to be trusted.

The marker shows up at birth, a latent gene from a murky ancestral past.

You see, the thing is, werewolves are not _necessarily_ directly born of parent werewolves, it’s a recessive allele, it usually takes the breeding of an Alpha and Omega to produce were offspring. But that sort of coupling is few and far between, not least because Omega’s are like gold dust, especially since the Great Wars. Although mostly it’s because werewolves tend to live out their lives like the rest of the ‘mundane’ population, and any children they do sire are usually born of a human mother.

Because another thing to remember is that the lycanthropy allele is only activated in accordance with the Y chromosome. So while woman can’t _be_ werewolves they can certainly be _carriers_ of the affliction.

It’s still a one in god-only-knowswhat chance that the allele would be activated in a child who wasn’t born of an Alpha and Omega, but it’s not impossible.

James T. Kirk proves that much at least.

Winona must have had it in the family; George had never even given it a second thought – sure, he was an Alpha but the wife he was utterly besotted with never mentioned anything about that slightly reclusive great grandfather. Of course, in the end, it didn’t really matter. George never lived long enough to deal with the fallout and his little Alpha baby would have to scrap his way through life regardless of his werewolf disposition.

…

When Jim is twelve and should be worrying about how his voice cracks at inconvenient times and having to explain to _Frank_ why they need to change the sheets, he is also saddled with his first change. Frank, the unfeeling plank of superstitious wood he is, locks Jim’s bedroom door and let’s whatever happens happen.

_I don’t have to deal with this Win, he isn’t my boy. This never happened to Sam, you’re off around the galaxy and you’re kid is a fucking werewolf, what am I supposed to do?_

_I don’t know._

By the time Jim is fifteen he’s taller than Sam who’s already been off at college for a year. He can control his changes now too, not having to flee his classes when his teachers make him mad or having to be sent home when the fear that he won’t be able to calm down leads the principle to worry for the other students. He stops going to school soon over his sixteenth birthday, doesn’t like being thought of as the _werewolf kid_.

_Well you won’t have to put up with me anymore, I’m gone Frank, I’m fucking gone._

_Good._

So he wanders for a while. From Iowa to Nebraska, up to South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, he wanders. Lone wolf has never been a more trite but fitting adage. He does eventually go back to Riverside. His werewolf heart is comforted by the familiar sounds and smells, the fresh bread from the bakery, the yellow cornfields. He’s twenty-one, slowly fucking his way through the available women of Riverside, and some of the unavailable ones, but he never really feels fulfilled. He has all this energy, all this need to _lead and rule and conquer_ that makes up the essence of an Alpha personality, and it makes him so antsy. He’s always on edge, always itching for a fight. The only quiet he can get is when he transforms.

The mind is dulled when one’s in were form. Emotions are simpler and when things get really bad Jim can just chew on a block of wood until he feels better.

He’s twenty two and he’s just had his ass handed to him by four haughty fuckers trussed up in red uniforms. He could have taken them but he was so frustrated he might have ripped their throats out, and even as a werewolf Jim isn’t exempt from murder. The presence of another Alpha makes his stomach roil; the whistle goes straight through him _shiftshiftshift_ his body chants. The Alpha is upside down when he finally comes into view - greying hair, unamused expression.

_You alright, son?_

The comment hurts Jim more than he lets on. _You can whistle really loud, you know that?_ He slurs, he’s still reeling from all this new emotion, from the smell of this Alpha, from the booze, from the pounding in his head.

It takes Jim the time he needs to get off the table, order another drink and sit down in front of Pike for the headache to ease but now his senses are sharper and the werewolf inside him, the neglected little pup that never knew a father is crying out for Pike’s attention. He wants to shift right then and there, posture to Pike, curl in like a yearling submitting to the parent wolf. The were within him wants praise and love and it frustrates Jim to fuck.

“You know, I couldn’t believe it when the bartender told me who you are.” Pike scoffs and Jim just moodily sips at his drink, scowling like the teenager his isn’t and never really was.

“And who am I Captain Pike?” Jim counters, the sigh evident in his voice. He’s had this conversation multiple times throughout his life, and he’d love to know how Pike’s answer will differ from the others’.

“Your father’s son.” Pike says, it’s quite the let-down and Jim scoffs lightly, trying to sneer even though he’s got two wads of tissue jammed up each nostril. “For my dissertation, I was assigned the U.S.S. Kelvin. Something I admired about your dad... he didn't believe in no-win scenarios.”

“He sure learned his lesson.” Jim purses his lips and removed the tissues, sticking them into his now empty pint glass.

“Depends on how you define winning, you’re here aren’t you?” Pike counters, he looks like he’s trying to say something without saying it. _Just by the skin of my neck_ Jim thinks but just offers Pike a look, one he’s sure the Alpha can recognise.

“Why are you talking to me, man?” Jim huffs, he’s annoyed now, and restless. He just wants to crawl into a field and curl up under the protection of the tall grass. He doesn’t need this; if he shifted he wouldn’t even be able to feel this shit.

“You can shift if you want to shift.” Pike says levelly. “And we can fight if you want to fight.”

“I want a lot of things.” Jim shrugs. “A Starfleet career isn’t one of ‘em.”

“That Alpha instinct, to leap without looking, that’s like gold dust in the ‘fleet. And I looked up your file while you were drooling on the floor. Your aptitude tests are off the charts, you could do anything, Jim. What is it… do you _like_ being the only genius-level repeat-offender in the Midwest?” Pike questions.

“Maybe I love it.” Jim shrugs.

“Well maybe it’s time for a change.” Pike counters. “The shuttle for new recruits leaves from the shipyard at 0800.”

“Are we done?”

“I’m done.” Pike nods, standing up, his steady gaze still trying to level with Jim. “Your father was Captain of a starship for twelve minutes, he saved eight hundred lives. I dare you to do better.”

…

It isn’t any obligation to Pike that draws him to the shipyard it’s a gut-wrenching need, like smelling the sweetest chocolate and developing the stomach deep hunger to taste it. Jim’s never felt it before, doesn’t know what’s making it happen but when he arrives at the shipyard way before the intended departure time Jim watches Pike hand another guy what must be some form of medication, the guy looks at whatever’s just been deposited in his cupped palm before throwing it into his mouth and swallowing, neck jerking back to help the process along.

Pike can sense Jim's standing there, but the stranger thing is that the guy also turns around to face him. Just watching Jim who is perched against his motorcycle. Another were? But that can’t be right. Jim would know the feel of an Alpha anywhere, can sense it, it makes his hackles rise and his teeth clench. This isn’t that, this man makes Jim want to keen. He makes Jim buzz with so much energy that he just wants to give chase.

An _Omega_?

Jim steps closer and Pike comes to stand in front of the other guy, the Omega. “Jim.” He says gently. But Jim can’t hear him, not over the racing heartbeat of the Omega. “Jim!” Pike warns, voice more cutting now and Jim stops dead in his tracks. He’s not the top dog yet and Pike’s authority still makes his stomach flip-flop.

“I could feel him.” Jim says, balling his hands into fists and then flexing his fingers. _So much energy_.

“It’s okay.” Pike says. “He’s going to take suppressants, the sensations will die down.”

“How can you stand it?” Jim’s breath is ragged, he’s almost panting.

“Not without effort.” Pike puffs out an amused scoff.

Jim cocks his head around Pike so he can look at the Omega, he looks like a miserable bastard to tell the truth. Nothing like the weak, wimpish creature Jim had always imagined Omegas to be. He’s actually quite tall, broader than Jim, in the shoulders at least. He’s dark, brooding. Looks frustrated, annoyed that Jim’s attentions have landed on him.

“Stop staring, Jim.” Pike reminds, like Jim’s a small infant. But then for all Jim has learnt on his own he doesn’t know everything, can’t. No one’s told him how to behave, how to react, he just wants to lick a stripe over the Omega’s cheekbone and maybe fuck him senseless. The guys lips are so plush, even in this dusky morning light he can see that much. Jim doesn’t want Pike anywhere near either of them.

“I don’t want to.” Jim says petulantly.

“You’ll scare him.” Pike says softly. He’s being accommodating for Jim’s ignorance; it isn’t his fault after all.

“I thought Omegas were like a myth.” Jim says, trying to refocus, trying to keep a hold of himself.

“No, not a myth Jim. No more of a myth than you or me. Just rarer.” Pike explains.

“But you can feel it, him, the need?” Jim asks, he needs the reassurance.

“Think less about the need, Jim.” Pike directs.

“Can you feel it?” Jim demands.

“Yes.” Pike barks and Jim wants to whimper, he wants to shift and curl around himself, cover his muzzle with a paw, growl at Pike and snap his jaws at him. “Don’t you get ratty with me, Jim!” Pike orders. “He’s a man, and you are no more entitled to him than anyone else on this planet.”

“I’m sorry.” Jim says quietly, swallowing down all of his messy feelings. “Jim Kirk.” He introduces, looking somewhere over the guy’s left shoulder.

“McCoy.” The guy starts uneasily. “Leonard McCoy.”

“I think you’re pretty safe now.” Jim assures. “I’m not use to this, is all.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” McCoy says. “You might find it hard to believe but this, this madness, is a step up. Wife damn well took the whole of Georgia in the divorce, all I got left is my bones.”

“You have to stop projecting, Jim.” Pike says softly. “It’s uncomfortable.”

 “Projecting?” Jim questions.

“Omegas, well, we’re pretty receptive to you Alpha’s feelings, you might not mean to but you’re all over the place right now kid.” McCoy says.

“This is going to cause me problems.” Pike says, drawing attention back to him. “Once you’re both registered I want to see you both in my office, no later than 1400.” Pike orders. “But right now I have a shuttle to prep, Leonard you should keep close. Jim, try not to break yourself.”

So Jim spends the next two hours sleeping under the shuttle in wolf form. He doesn’t want to stray too far from McCoy. Still feels tetchy at the thought of Pike claiming him for his own, but Jim knows even as an Alpha Pike’s age would give him props over a mate. This is why he hates pack dynamics, Jim is his own man and doesn’t owe Pike anything but he wants to impress him and defer to the man’s experience. He wants to learn from Pike. But that might mean playing second fiddle where McCoy’s concerned.

Jim’s heard whispers about mating for life, about pair-bonding and imprinting, about feeling something so strong that Alphas can’t function without their Omega – it makes Jim feel sick.

…

Even though Pike puts Jim and McCoy, or Bones as Jim’s been calling him, up in his own house so that he can monitor their behaviour and make sure Jim doesn’t do anything stupid, Jim actually spends more time in the various dorm rooms of other women. The pull he felt towards Bones was almost obsolete by the time they disembarked the shuttle, he could barely even smell Bones, other than the residue liquor and weeks old antiseptic.

Pike’s friend Phillip Boyce is a specialist for these sorts of things, he’s spent a lot of time studying werewolf physiology and is the one monitoring Bones’ meds and making sure things are tickety-boo for the Omega. Jim’s less inclined to seek medical attention even though Bones bitches at him whenever Jim comes home with bruised knuckles or a split lip.

“You don’t have to get your fool head beat in just so you can get your itch scratched.” Bones huffs.

But Boyce must have got something wrong. Because Jim is halfway through a command seminar with Pike when both Alpha’s look towards the easterly wall of the lecture hall. It’s Bones, the smell of sweet peach, that same need for chocolate deep in Jim’s stomach, the pitter-patter of a heartbeat in the back of his head. Jim gets up and Pike can’t stop him, can’t make a scene. He’s out of that hall like a shot and headed straight for medical. Doesn’t even know where he’s going really just follows his nose. Dully, he’s aware of Pike following him. Somewhere a few corridors back.

Bones is actually in Boyce’s office pacing around frantically. Like he knows Jim is honing in on him. He probably does.

“Jim.” Boyce says.

“Shut up.” Is Jim’s easy reply. He looks at Bones, hazel eyes so clear now, now that they’re not dimmed by the suppressors. Jim wants to dive into that emerald-gold-quartz sea and drown. Jim can’t help stalking towards Bones, Bones is clearly feeling the dread of what this situation could lead to but doesn’t want to back down. Jim’s wolf isn’t impressed by the Omega’s defiance.

“Jim.” Bones says and Jim’s eyes nearly roll back inside his head.

“Shh.” Jim says softly, trailing his thumb over Bones’ cheekbone. Bones steps back and Jim’s hand shoots out of its own accord, he has Bones jaw clenched between his thumb and forefinger. The hold is tight enough to bruise and now Bones does look scared.

“Get _off_.” Bones growls but Jim is the Alpha here and his hold simply continues to tighten and it’s painful and maybe his hand might cramp up.

“Jim.” That’s Pike. Jim growls but let’s go of Bones’ face, Bones pulls himself further away. “Phil, why have the suppressants stopped?”

“His body is rejecting them, it’s ah, he’s…” Boyce glances meaningfully at Pike.

“He’s going into heat?” Pike questions and Boyce nods.

“Oh, _fuck_.” Jim sighs, like it’s the best and worst news he’s ever heard. “I need to fuck him, please can I fuck him.” Jim turns to plead with Pike.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, Jim.” Bones huffs.

“Shh.” Jim repeats. “I need you to stay quiet.”

“Fuck you.” Bones scoffs. “I don’t know who-”

“Leonard.” Pike placates. “Please, just…” He makes vague hand gestures, seemingly agreeing with Jim that Bones needs to keep the decibel level down. Jim’s never seen Pike this overwhelmed; usually the elder Alpha has all his faculties in check. This looks like it’s actually taking its toll on the captain and a spiteful part of Jim is highly amused, another part of Jim wants to stand in front of Bones, keep him shielded, protected from Pike and his too-fast heartbeat. “Jim, why don’t you head back to the house?” Pike says, refusing to tear his gaze from Bones.

“Why don’t _you_?” Jim counters.

“I think it’d be best for both of you to go.” Boyce says, because even if Bones wanted to he couldn’t. He currently has the attentions of two Alphas, unless he wants some serious carnage Bones really does need to stay quiet.

“Phil.” Pike reasons, or pleads maybe.

“Go, Chris. Leonard can stay with me.” Boyce says.

“Come on, Jim.” Pike says, throwing one last lustful look at Bones before apologising. “Now.”

…

The oestrus cycle for an Omega occurs once a year for a few weeks sometime in the winter months, for Bones it has always been the start of December and it always lasts eighteen days. During this time an Omega is self-lubricating and gives off pheromones that say _please-jump-me_ to any Alpha in the vicinity, as the number of Omegas have decreased through the years the pheromones have only gotten stronger, for those eighteen days Bones is pretty much desirable to every humanoid he encounters, but of course, _they’re_ not going to try and mate with him.

Bones gets through the eighteen days, just barely. Because it’s not only the time where all the Alpha’s are drawn to Bones like honeybees to nectar but, but it’s also the time when Bones himself is wracked with a biological urge to mate, a need so deep it claws at his inside – it would have been so easy to just give in, just let Jim or Pike fuck him over and over but that wouldn’t be fair. Not on any of them.

He can feel Jim tracking him all throughout his heat but its Pike’s smell he’s more aware of, the woodsy, expensive, cologne attempting to mask that musky warmth. Everything in him tells him to flirt with Pike, to pout and act coquettish, to blush and turn coy when Pike’s powerful, sophisticated form leans close to him. But it’s just because Pike is the older were. Bones’ were is so picky, it wants the best and it think Pike might be it. Bones can’t wait for this to be over, can’t wait to have his suppressants again. Not only to be safe from the two Alphas but to be safe from his own Omega needs that he never had to face before this.

Six years of marriage and this is what his life has become.

His mother had been born of an Alpha Omega pair-bond; she had grown up knowing what it was to be a werewolf without ever having to face life as one. She was strong though, as a carrier, and by some breadth of biology, and even though his father had never even encountered a werewolf, their bundle of joy had turned out to be a full-fledged one himself. Eleanor and David had done everything to make their little pup’s life as easy as possible, and Bones had learnt what it meant to be an Omega from his werewolf grandfather. But he had wanted to be more than just an Omega, never understood the attraction to men anyways, and so he went off to med-school, got married, became a doctor. But it all fell apart the day David McCoy took his last breath.

He spent six months walking around his childhood home with his tail between his legs, literally, and Jocelyn just didn’t know how to cope. The divorce came on the grounds that he was no longer functioning as a husband should, but Bones knew it was because she wouldn’t risk having wolf alleles screwing with her future children’s genetics.

So he left, with nothing in the world but his bones.

And then he was in Riverside, felt a strange tingling in his belly, along his skin, his heart thumping out a fiery mating tattoo. An Alpha. Pike. Another. Jim.

His life had just gone to hell in a hand basket and now he was faced with two unattached weres both vying for his attentions. Pike pretended to have all this control but it was the exertion of that control that let Bones know without a shadow of a doubt that Pike would have as much of him as Bones was willing to give.

Things were different with Jim, despite their uneasy beginning they were function as fast friends, drinking together, studying together, bitching together… Bones felt safe with Jim and hoped that Jim could say the same. Werewolves often gravitated together, pack dynamics a fundamental part of their biology. But now the shortage of werewolves meant that most were denied that privilege, forced to live out their life amongst the ‘normal’ humans of society.

Bones enjoyed just being around Jim and was glad he could get back to that after three weeks of having to avoid each other. Jim looks at him with clear eyes when they meet on the nineteenth day in the mess. It’s an easy, Kirkian smile and Bones feels the axis of the world tilt back to what he’s used to.

“Bones!” Jim grins. “D’you wanna head out to Murphy’s after class, I know you’re on clinic rotation Sunday but nothing tomorrow, right? You could spend the day curing the mother of all hangovers if need be?”

“I guess.” Bones huffs. “But dammit, Jim, I ain’t gonna get drunk enough to worry about hangovers. I’ve got a meeting with Pike tomorrow after lunch.”

“But it’s a Saturday, what could he possibly have to meet with you about that couldn’t wait until Monday?”  Jim questions. “And we’re _staying_ with the guy, can’t he just say whatever it is from the comfort of the living room couch.”

“When did Chris Pike become _the guy_ , Jim?” Bones counters. “It’s about my meds, I can’t shift as easy when I’m taking ‘em and now that I’ve had my, well ya’know… It might be another year before I can shift again and that can’t be healthy but if I stop taking the suppressants then-”

“Chris and I go a bit crazy?” Jim supplies.

“Well, yeah.” Bones scoffs .

“You could ah, you just choose one of us.” Jim says, and it’s an out of the blue proposition even to his own ears. It’s his were niggling inside him, he’s sure of it. “I mean-”

“Jim.” Bones huffs. “It’s not- I can’t just-”

“I know.” Jim says quickly. “God, I know. I don’t- I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Wolf’s leaking through, huh?” Bones scoffs. “Maybe getting rat’s assed _will_ help.”

So they do. And then they stumble back into Pike’s abode at a ridiculous time the next morning and clatter around the kitchen laughing at each other. Jim thinks this is probably the first time he’s really see Bones _laugh_ and catalogues it away with all the rest of his Bones related memories. Pike isn’t so impressed, it’s half four and he’s not getting his Saturday off because he has to run drills with fourth year cadets at 0800 but he wasn’t expecting to be up this early. He looks unamused, as if the boys are deliberately disobeying orders or maybe it’s because they’re getting closer than the Alpha appreciates.

“I’m ’n alpha too.” Jim slurs, pouting at Pike who just stares at the kid until he slumps into one of the kitchen chairs. Bones casts glances from one to the other and then huffs.

“’M goin’ a bed.” He mutters.

“You can sit down too.” Pike instructs.

“’re not the boss of me.” Bones counters, still making his way out of the room but Pike’s hand shoots out to grab Leo’s forearm and he pulls him closer.

“Sit down.” Pike almost snarls. Jim wants to shift and snap his jaws at Pike. _Shit_. Something must be happening with Bones again because this isn’t right, this isn’t usually how he feels around Bones, or maybe it is, maybe it’s been building and he just didn’t see it. Tried to ignore it, more like. Even on suppressants Bones is like a spark of kinetic energy every time Jim’s within touching distance, and he already feels a passive bond forming between them because sometimes he thinks he can actually _feel_ the looks that skitter over Bones’ face.  “Leo.” Pike starts and Jim grits his teeth at the endearment. “I know you’re in a tough situation but Phil is convinced it’s unnatural for you to remain unmat- _unattached_ when you’re surrounded by two healthy Alphas. Your suppressants aren’t doing as well as job as they have been because the Omega in you is trying to secure a mate. Going through your heat without- well, it’s only exacerbated things. Your wolf _really_ wants a mate and denying those needs are only going to hinder you in the long run.”

“I can’t ‘ve this ‘sation now.” Bones murmurs. “Gotta sleep.”

“You can’t make him choose.” Jim says a while after Bones has left the room.

“Scared you won’t come out on top, pup?” Pike smiles warmly, and Jim feels like the child again, the whelp who still hasn’t found his feet and is still chasing after his mother’s teat, even though he’s been fine for the last (almost) twenty-three years of his life. He’s never before needed the company of other wolves to settle him and he doesn’t intend to start now. But if Bones chooses Pike… hell. Jim isn’t going to know what to do with himself.

Maybe it’ll be a good thing, maybe then these feelings will stop and Jim can go back to being Jim, no strings attached. But what if it isn’t just because Bones is an unmated Omega and the wolf in Jim wants a bit of that action… What if it’s Jim who wants Bones regardless of their status as werewolves? Then he can’t let Pike have him… can he? Jim feels sick and he shifts, he shouldn’t do it drunk he knows that but then Pike is there and the wolves are circling each other and it’s just so easy like this. They curl up on opposite ends of the kitchen floor and just watch each other, both listening out for Bones and letting themselves be lulled to sleep by his steady heartbeat. Jim can’t not have that.

Around noon Bones walks back into the kitchen looking fresher and ready to talk but both the Alphas are still in wolf form, Pike has already done everything he had to do that morning but has seen fit to shift again. Bones heaves an exaggerated sigh, tapping Jim on the snout to wake him up before pouring himself some coffee.

“You ready to have this conversation now?” Pike says suddenly stood there in a grey t-shirt and slacks.

“I can’t just _choose_ , Chris.” Bones says and it’s all the push Jim needs to be up and back in his human body. “This is for _life_. It’s not just a trip to the derby.”

“Regardless of who you choose once you’ve mated you’ll be pair-bonded, it’s not like you have to worry about being in a dead end relationship, Leo. That’s not how it works.” Pike says gently.

“I never wanted this.” Bones huffs. “I never wanted to seek out a pair-bond. I wanted to live life in the quiet of Georgia, just an old country doctor, none of this were bullshit.”

“It’s a part of who you are.” Pike reminds.

“I could go.” Bones says and Jim steps forward.

“No, Bones. You can’t _leave_.” He urges. Even without all of this Jim doesn’t know what he’d do without having the constant presence of Bones in his life, a reassuring entity that lets Jim know what’s what. Keeps him grounded. Bones can’t _leave_ him.

“But then you both could just move on with your lives, the way it was before, no shitty wolf hormones dictatin’ what we gotta do.” Bones says. “I can’t help what I am, but I can sure as hell keep from lettin’ it affect you.”

“I don’t know if I want it to stop affecting me.” Jim says softly.

“That’s just the wolf talking, Jim.” Bones huffs.

“Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t, the wolf is a part of me too Bones and I feel it.” Jim says. “More than just a need to rip your clothes off.”

“Stop, Jim.” Bones huffs.

“Is this ‘cause you want Chris? You want the experienced Alpha?” Jim questions.

“Don’t be an asshole, Jim.” Bones huffs. “I just don’t know. It’s difficult to think. My system is pumped full of all this shit.”

“I’ll call Phil.” Chris says, comm already open, message probably already sent.

“I have the antidote already, Chris.” Bones says, sounding more resigned than Jim has ever heard him. “Just, try not to jump me.”

It was meant to lighten the mood, Jim’s sure of that. But neither of the Alphas are laughing and Bones just looks sick. He heads back into the bedroom and Jim knows his pupils have already dilated , it’s like the flood gates are open the minute Bones administers the loaded hypo to his neck and Jim can smell Bones and that deep ache for chocolate is back. Pike moves closer to the door and Jim makes a low, throaty growl that just makes Pike laugh.

When Bones appears in the doorframe he looks different, not skittish, like the first time Jim had seen him unshielded by suppressants, but he is scared. He’s looks as though he’s steeled himself for this though. He places a gentle hand over Pike’s knuckles that are white from the way his fingers are tensed around the countertop. Jim worries the inside of his cheek, holding himself back from pouncing between them. But then Pike is pulling Bones closer to his by a firm hand on the Omega’s waist – it occurs to Jim that maybe Bones is better off with Chris, that maybe Pike can offer stability that Jim isn’t sure he could ever possess or command. But Jim really wants to keep seeing those smiles Bones reserves all for him and realises something really important.

He needs Bones to keep being his own man.

He takes hold of Pike’s arm and tells Bones to head over to Boyce’s, shift for a while, let his tail down. It takes more strength than Jim knew he had and even Pike looks faintly impressed. Annoyed too, but impressed.

“You can’t have him.” Jim states. “Neither of us can.”

“You’re an idiot, son, you know that?” Pike smiles slightly.

“I don’t want things to change.” Jim admits. “What if he takes the weekends off his suppressants, move him into his own dorms he can hang around there.”

“You’re going to have to exercise expert control.” Pike warns.

“So are you.”

…

So instead of spending his weekends studying or getting drunk with Jim Bones holes himself up in his shiny new single quarters and rotates between studying, comming Jim and shifting. It seems to work. And by the time his annual heat cycle comes around he and Christine Chapel are good enough friends that when he offers to take her out of town for a fortnight she shrugs, then agrees. She says her family always spend the winter off-world and she just can’t stomach that this year. They spend two weeks in Maine, him pouring his werewolf heart out to her and her reminding him of the pleasures hidden within the female body. She says if the need to serve is a quality found in all Omegas then she needs to find one of her own because she’s never met a man so happy to spend more time going down on her then trying to get away with a quick (and usually orgasm-less) fuck.

“You’re welcome, I think.” Bones says with an amused little scoff.

“How many days will you have left when we get back?” Christine asks.

“Four.” Bones says. “I don’t know what to expect. I haven’t got any clinic rotations so I’ll be on campus the entire time, it’s not gonna be easy.”

“If you need anything all you have to do is ask.” Christine assures him.

…

“He’s back.” Jim says, walking into Pike’s sitting room without hesitation. The woman Jim only knows as Number One has her bare feet in Pike’s lap, they’re both drinking wine and Boyce is in the armchair with a glass of Brandy cradled in his hands.

“Is he?” Pike says, disbelievingly. Cocking his head to the side as if to listen for something.

“You can’t feel it?” Jim questions, he would doubt himself but if he doesn’t get a bite of some seventy percent cocoa in the next half hour he’s going to bite someone’s head off, maybe literally.

“No.” Pike says and then frowns. “How strange.”

“Maybe the Omega knows what he wants after all.” Number One shrugs, she isn’t around a lot now that she’s captaining the Yorktown but from what Jim can gather Number One and Boyce are the only two officer’s privy to Pike’s condition and they have done their best over the years to be as helpful as they could be with any of Pike’s furry problems.

“His name is Bones.” Jim huffs and heads out of the house, ignoring Pike’s futile calls.

When Jim finally turns up at Bones’ dorm Bones is only wearing a thin little t-shirt and some sweatpants. Bones isn’t shocked to see Jim at the door, he could probably smell him coming but he does look pretty terrified.

“I can smell her on you.” Jim growls.

“Jim.”

“I need you to understand something, Bones.” Jim says stepping into Bones’ dorm.

“What’s that?” Bones huffs.

“I really, _really_ want to fuck you.” Jim breathes, Bones looks away bashfully before cursing his internal flirty as hell, horny as fuck, currently in heat, Omega and growling at Jim.

“Tough shit, Jim.” And it pains Bones to say it just as much as it pains Jim.

“What if I just, just came on your face?” Jim suggests. “Just a bit.”

“Christ Jim. _No_.” Bones huffs. Jim just wants to mark his territory, needs to let Bones know that he fully intends to mate with him the minute he’s allowed to.

“Why?” Jim whines and then tries to claw back at his composure. “Okay, okay. We could just… lie together. Naked. I just. I want to taste you. You should really let me. I’ll be gentle. I won’t-”

“Kid, stop yammering. You can’t just come in here expecting to get laid just ‘cause I’m in heat.” Bones huff.

“You want me.” Jim says. “I know it.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Right now I wanna be fucked five ways from Sunday but it ain’t happenin’.” Bones states, honey drawl thickening with his arousal - sticking to Jim in all the best ways.

“I’ve got condoms. I won’t get you pr-“ Jim stops himself. “ _Please_ , Bones. You’ve been holding out on me for nearly two years. I want this. I want you. I want forever.”

“Fuck.” Bones sighs, resting his forehead against Jim’s. “Okay.”

They end up in a heap on the floor, neither of them wearing anything on their bottom half but both still in t-shirts. Jim is pinning Bones in place by wrapping his fingers around Bones’ wrists and holding them down against the cold wooden floor, they’re rutting like animals, both hard and leaking, although Jim slightly more so, cock sheathed behind a thin layer of latex. Bones hikes his knees up, bracketing each side of Jim’s ribcage. Jim can’t believe how easy it is to slide into Bones; this isn’t just self-lubrication this is Bones tampering with what’s now Jims and it makes the Alpha mad.

“Did you let Chapel finger fuck you?” Jim hisses and Bones just shakes his head, can’t say anything, can only look up in awe at Jim. “Just yours then? Were you prepping for me? Or did you just need to scratch your own itch?”

“Jim, please.” Bones whimpers. “You have to move. I need you to move.”

“God, Bones.” Jim moans and then it’s just primal movement, an unrelenting rhythm, the slap of skin on skin. Jim murmurs nonsense into Bones’ clavicle while the Omega’s head just rolls back, thudding against the floor, not that either of them would notice. There is something winding its way in the pit of their stomachs and they’re suddenly surrounded in a wave of each other. Jim can feel relief course through Bones and Bones knows without a shadow of a doubt that Jim is his now, all his. Their orgasms are all the more toe-curling because they ricochet off each other, not only getting their individual release but getting the backlash of their partner’s as well.

Jim’s sated for about ten minutes, a time frame he uses to lie slumped on top of Bones, in between his parted thighs. Jim whispers a string of increasingly possessive phrases until Bones nips at his shoulder and calls him an infant.

“I want you again.” Jim counters, but he doesn’t just slip back inside the warmth of Bones’ body, he shimmies down a bit, pushing the back of Bones’ thighs up so that his slick hole is exposed. “Christ.” Jim whispers, kissing the inside of Bones’ thigh before tracing his tongue down over Bones’ balls, adding a touch more pressure as he trails over his perineum. Bones is pretty much constantly half-hard while he’s in heat so it’s not difficult for Jim to coax an erection out of the Omega. Although, Jim does it with frightening efficiency. Jim let’s Bones’ heart beat wash over him, a shared sensation now that they’ve bonded.

Even though Bones knows it’s coming, not only because it’s the inevitable progression of the journey Jim’s tongue is currently taking but because Bones can almost hear the devious little laugh bubbling up inside Jim’s head, the feel of Jim’s too hot tongue inside him is still a slight shock. Bones writhes and pleads and pouts and Jim just carries on, calm and collected, hand gripping the base of his own erection to keep him from coming all over the floor. Instead, once he’s rimmed Bones to orgasm, he jerks himself off over the Omega’s torso and Bones just smirks, he’s still riding a post-orgasm high and it’s clearly making the surly doctor loopy.

“I hope you can keep things this interesting for another three days.” Bones huffs.

“Don’t worry, Bones. I think I can manage to bring my a-game for a little bit longer than three more days.” Jim promises.

…

_I relieve you sir._

_I am relieved._

Jim thinks this means that he’s grown up – all the way this time. He’s not the pup or the yearling or the whelp. He’s an Alpha who has an Omega to fawn over and protect and he knows he can trust Bones to do the same. Bones still makes him where condoms when they fuck and sometimes threatens Jim with evil hypos full of suppressants but they’ve managed to make it work. They fit together as more than just two wolves but as two people. Being biologically coupled doesn’t mean they don’t still have to work at things, life on a starship is hard for anyone but Bones is still a little neurotic at times and he has to try and shield that otherwise it bleeds into Jim and he feels uncertainty in a way that’s unfamiliar to him. And Jim has to remind himself to watch his temper because Bones is already a cantankerous old mare without the captain adding to it.

But they’re both aware of their faults, of their limitations and it’s in the other’s power to balance that out, to right the wrongs and to sooth the excess of emotion.

Well, mostly Jim uses their tentative empathy to communicate lewd images while Bones alternates between sending torrents of pure menace and entertaining Jim’s filthy mind until it starts to make _Jim_ blush.  

…

_…and the werewolf and his lover lived happily ever after._


End file.
